Golden Moments
by AdorkableChika
Summary: For those times when "There and Back Again" is just to horrible to think about, or when you're wrapped up in a fluffy blanket with a cup of cocoa and need something to match the moment. Previously titled "Adorkable Moments".
1. The What and the Why

So, I'm an uncurable Ringer. In fact, I privately believe in Middle-earth as being a real place (well, not so privately anymore), and have probably got a little bit of everything running through my blood. Lately, the Dwarf side of me has been making herself known, and so I've started writing little fics and blurbs centered around the happenings and characters of 'The Hobbit.' I'm currently obsessed with writing about the Heirs of Durin, but I've got a Frodo fic somewhere as well, and I've got the idea for a Legolas one rattling around in the mosh pit that I have for a brain.

All these fics will be cute, sweet, fluffy moments that would be perfectly at home in a PG movie. Well, maybe PG-13, but fear not. There's enough smut on here as it is, and I'm going for the warm your heart and feed your soul type stuff. So sit back and enjoy!


	2. Down by the river - Kili

"Kili!"

"Fili! Stop!"

"Let it go!"

The shouts of panic were barely audible over the roar of the river. Swollen from the day's heavy rain, it was swiftly carrying a spooked pony downstream, along with two dwarves who stubbornly insisted on saving it. Or, more accurately, one dwarf. The other was saving him.

You, Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin are currently the only ones on the river bank. Dwalin is holding Thorin back from diving into the river, shouting that they can't risk losing all of them, to trust the boys to take care of themselves. In the roiling foam, you catch the briefest glimpse of a blonde head. "There!"

The pony's pack is heavily waterlogged at this point, and the whites of the creature's eyes are just visible in the quickly falling darkness. It seems to have found a sturdy place in the river bank, but the weight of the two dwarves is slowly pulling it back into the current.

For some reason, Kili will not let go of the pony's lead. Fili is trying to keep his brother and himself above water, but another wave sends them tumbling under again.

"We've got to help them!" Shucking off your cloak, you run alongside the river, plunging in where you last saw the trio.

The river is cold. so cold that for a moment it snatches your breath away. Once recovered, you begin swimming towards the frantic pony and dwarves.

With the current sweeping you downstream, it's only moments before you reach the heartily resisting pony. Already your heavy boots are filled with water, and belatedly you realize that you probably should've taken the time to remove them. "What's wrong?" You have to shout at Fili despite your nearness because of the roaring water.

"His hand - it's tangled in the lead!" Fili is fumbling for a knife while trying to keep his head above water, as well as his brother's. Your eyes widen at the sight of Kili: he's horribly pale and quiet, sluggishly working at the tangle of rope around his right hand and forearm. The pony's struggles aren't helping in the least either, constantly tightening the knots.

"Knife -" You cough as you get a mouthful of water, and try again. "Cut the rope -"

"I'm trying!" Fili snaps, his words thick from the freezing water. "Where's yours?"

"In camp, b-by my pack," you reply, mentally cursing yourself.

Not yet as numb as Fili from the cold, you slide a hand along his arm, quickly finding the knife he keeps there. Sawing at the rope lead safely away from Kili's arm, you nearly drop the blade when the pony slips, dunking you all.

Fighting back up to the surface, you resume cutting through the lead, but the water-swollen fibers are resisting. "Hold him up!" You rasp at Fili, wrapping your free hand in the pony's mane for support. "Not gonna . . . cut 'im free . . . just for him to drown."

The next time you go under, you do lose your grip on the knife, and come up with curses that would have made Dori clap his hands over Ori's ears. "Dropped it!"

Fili grits his teeth, and, to your shock, lets go of Kili. Gripping the rope on either side of the cut, he tears the last frayed strands with a strength born of desperation. Slipping an arm under the freed Kili's shoulders, he nods weakly at you as you do the same. Together, you begin to painstakingly swim back to shore, where you can see the others waiting.

A multitude of hands help pull you up onto dry land again, and someone throws a blanket around your shoulders. Your boots feel like lead weights as a fussing Dori tries to lead you up the hill back to camp, but you balk. "Kili . . . is he alright?"

"All he needs is some time by a warm fire. Same as you, lass," he assures you, and the sight of Thorin and Gloin helping the two princes up the hill gets you moving again.

* * *

The three of you are bundled up near a roaring fire that quickly drives the chill from your bones. No one speaks, though, despite the fact that Oin has long since bustled off, grumbling about the foolishness of it all. Fili is already wrapped in his bedroll, close to sleep, as are most of the other dwarves. You peel a strand of wet hair off your cheek as you watch Kili, who is examining the bandages that cover the rope burns on his hand and forearm.

"Why'd you do it?" You ask when the silence becomes too much. "Why'd you go after Bungo? He probably would've gotten himself out."

Kili's dark eyes meet yours and he shrugs. "There was a better chance of saving the food in his packs."

You bite back a sigh of exasperation. How can he be so nonchalant after almost dying? "At the risk of losing you?"

"Better me than Fili." He bites his lip once the words are out, clearly not meaning to have said them.

"Whatever do you mean?" You know, you've heard the whispers, but you're wondering, has he?

"You know what they say." Picking at a thread in his trousers, Kili drops the tone of his voice as he says, "Fili is uncle Thorin's heir. I'm just . . . not as important. The spare."

You scoot closer to him to place a hand over his, stopping his restless movements. "And do you really believe that?"

He stares at the ground between his feet, and you have your answer. "Kili . . ."

"I see it in all their eyes," he bursts out, the hand under yours clenching into a fist. "I'm a prince, and they don't dare treat me otherwise, but they think -" He pauses to take a deep breath. "Out of me and Fili, I'm the disposable one." His eyes close, hiding the pain you briefly saw there, and he turns his head slightly away.

"So, this - you were trying to prove yourself, weren't you?" His lips press together and you continue. "Everything you do, you're trying to show everyone that you're better than your brother?"

"No!" His quick denial surprises you. "Not better, just . . . not inferior. I'm tired of being looked over, of being treated like a child still." His voice drops again as he adds, "Thorin wanted me to stay behind."

You sigh, mulling over what to say. Gently, you loosen his hand from its fist, slipping your fingers between his. He smiles slightly at that, squeezing your hand lightly. "Except for you," he says, a fond note in his low tone now. "I never feel like you're sizing me up."

"Flatterer," you mutter, smacking him lightly on the biceps with your free hand, making him chuckle. You're loath to ruin the moment, but you don't want to let this problem fester. "Does Fili know about all this?"

Kili's smile drops like a stone. "Yes. He tells me not to worry about it, to give the people time and they'll start to respect me, but he's my brother. He might just be saying that for my sake."

"No, it's true," you assure him. "You can't rush things like that. You have to show the people that you know what you're doing. Then they'll realize that you're just as important and capable as Fili."

Kili sighs, letting go of your hand to put his arm around your shoulders and pull you against his side. You snuggle up close to him, feeling the vibrations in his chest as he says, "In that case, I'd say this quest is a good start."

You can't help but laugh slightly, looking up at his face. "i think it's an excellent start."

He grins, tilting his head to kiss you lightly. "Mahal, woman, your lips are freezing!"

"I did just take an unexpected swim," you say with a slight shrug, before adding with a mischievous grin, "Mind warming me up?"

"Of course not. Can't have you falling ill." Rubbing his nose against yours affectionately, you catch a bright twinkle in his chocolate eyes before he's kissing you again. And suddenly your wet clothes aren't quite so uncomfortable, and the one thing you really feel is him, his lips on yours and his hand on your cheek, covered with rough calluses from years of handling a sword and bow. His lips are cold, like yours must be, but then they start to warm with the tender kisses you're exchanging.

Your hand that you have pressed against his chest is warming rapidly, and you can feel his heart racing. Your other hand, though, tangled in his damp hair, is still chilly. But you don't mind in the least. This little moment, without anyone else teasing or whistling in amusement, is pure bliss.

"Well, don't that just warm yer heart." You and Kili break apart, looking up in surprise. Bofur, who's apparently on watch, has moved closer to you, grinning crookedly. You can feel a blush rising on your cheeks as he continues. "Lovely as you might be feelin' now, I advise gettin' some sleep. After earlier, I know ye'll be needin' it." He tips his hat to you, and grins knowingly at Kili, before pacing off to the other side of camp.

You glance back at Kili. "He's right. We should get to sleep." Reluctantly, you move away from his side to wiggle into your bedroll, keeping your blanket tightly wrapped around yourself.

Kili moves his bedroll next to yours before settling in, making you smile fondly. Curling up close to him, sharing body heat as well as warmth from the fire, a comfortable silence falls between you. Before you doze off, however, a question comes to mind. "Kili?"

"Hmm?" He sounds adorably drowsy, and you almost feel bad for disturbing him.

"You didn't go after Bungo to try to impress me, did you?" He shifts guiltily and you huff. "You didn't have to do that, you idiot!"

"Your idiot," he mumbles sleepily, and you can't berate him for that. So after one last goodnight kiss, you let yourself succumb to sleep, still smiling like you'd won all the gold in Erebor.

* * *

So, yeah . . . not really all that fluffy till the end, and it got a lot longer than I intended. Ah well. It's cute, and I needed that, and admit it, you did too.

I believe that it will be a Thorin fic next, so keep your eyes peeled!


	3. Bravery - Thorin

"You're a coward."

Your legs are trembling with exhaustion and fear and pain, but you stand tall. You're done with the meek indecisiveness that used to be your protective shell. It was what got you injured, then left behind in Rivendell. It left you trailing hours behind the company, trying in vain to catch up. And now, it is the reason that you stand with your hands tied behind your back, staring down a giant pale orc while flames dance all around.

Azog the Defiler turns his white warg slightly to see you better. After hours on warg-back as a captive, to be used as bait for the great Thorin Oakenshield, you know his face much better than you would like to. You know the exact pattern of the series of ornamental scars that rake across his body. The firelight throws them into sharp relief, playing along them so they look like deep crevasses. And you recognize the disdainful sneer that his lip is curling into, but the hareful fire in his icy slue eyes is burning so much brighter than before that you catch your breath in a slight start of fear.

Azog notices, his chin lifting slightly in satisfaction. However, you crush that when you repeat yourself.

"You're a coward, Azog."

The orc's nostrils flare in rage, and his warg snarls and lurches towards you. Your small squeak of fear is drowned out by Azog's sharp command, and the wargs settle down. The Gundabad orc lifts his hand in a silent order, and the orc that is standing over the prone form of Thorin Oakenshield, bare blade raised, takes a step back, eye darting between his victim and leader.

"What did you call me, girl?" Azog spits our the last word like a curse, and you like your lips nervously.

"A coward." You're pleased at how strongly your voice comes out, even more so than the last time. A strange hush has fallen over the area as the orc pack watches like wolves watch a battle for alpha rank. You take advantage of this and speak again. "Really, look at yourself. You've got henchmen to do the dirty work for you." You nod towards the orc over Thorin for emphasis.

A ripple passes through the orc pack as they look at their leader in a new light. Sensing the balance tipping out of his favor, Azog snarls, but you're not done.

"You finally have Thorin Oakenshield, next in the line of Durin. You've been hunting him for decades, and now that you've got him, you're going to let one of your underlings finish him off?" You scoff, feeling dangerously reckless. You're likely to die in the next few minutes, so you might as well make it memorable. "It seems Azog the Defiler is _afraid _of a dwarf. But, it makes sense. Last time you met, he took your arm off. This time he'll probably aim better, and go for your neck!" You rock back on your heels, having subconsciously leaned forwards as you delivered your taunt.

Azog's enraged features spell your death in capital letters, but the adrenaline is still coursing through your veins and you smile widely at him.

The orc is ready to dig his heels into his warg's sides when a thud and strangled squeal sound behind him. Bilbo Baggins, hobbit burglar extraordinaire, has tackled the orc previously ready to behead Thorin, and is stabbing it to death in his own sudden display of courage. Then, lunging to his feet, he stands between the fallen king and his attackers, holding his miniature sword out in front of himself with shaking hands.

"Back! Get . . . back, all of you!" He threatens, though the way he waves his sword about seems more a danger to himself than the orcs.

All but forgotten in the sudden turn of events, you start struggling with your bonds, cursing under your breath. Bilbo won't last long on his own, you know. You won't either, but together you'll have a chance of holding them off until the rest of the company can climb out of the tree currently leaning precariously off the surrounding cliffs.

Then, much sooner than you expected, nearly the full company charges seemingly out of the flames, driving the wargs and orcs bakc from their leader. Nori comes over to you, one of his curved knives making quick work of your bonds.

When the rope falls away, you rub your wrists, hissing in pain as circulation returns to your fingers. Shaking it off as best you can, you join the fray, using Nori's borrowed blade to dispatch your distracted guard with a savage satisfaction.

A harsh scream overhead makes you look up, just as a giant eagle snatches up the nearest wargs to hurl them off the cliff. Whooping in early victory, you cut down an orc about to bury an ax in Gloin's back, before claws close around your midsection. You can't choke back your scream of terror as the eagle tosses you after the wargs.

You're wishing you'd died by Azog's mace when you hit something soft. Gasping for the breath that's been knocked out of you, you open your eyes to gape with wonder: you've landed on the back of one of the eagles. Looking around, you can see the others riding the eagles or clasped in their talons, all seeming none the worse for the wear.

Except for one.

* * *

The miracle of flight is over all too soon. The eagles deposit the motley group of dwarves, a hobbit, and a wizard on the lofty spire known as the Carrock, wheeling around it before soaring away. But the company hardly notices. Their focus is on Thorin.

When the eagle first sets Thorin on the rock, he lays so still that the horrible conviction that he is dead grips your heart. But then his eyes snap open after Gandalf murmurs an unintelligible spell, and you bite your lip to hold back a cry of relief.

Thorin rises shakily to his feet, starting to accuse Bilbo of being unfit for the quest. You can't believe it - didn't he see what Bilbo did for him? Then he is amending his statements, finally accepting the hobbit, to everyone's delight.

Then he turns to you, and you feel as if your heart momentarily stops. "How did Azog capture you?" He asks, voice rasping slightly. "We left you in Riven-"

"I left." You look him straight in the eye, something you've only dared to do a few times before. "This company . . . you're one of the best things that's ever happened to me. So I wasn't about to let you go."

The dwarves murmur slightly amongst themselves, looking pleased. Thorin is eyeing you, expression unreadable, so you continue. "I think I was a few hours behind you, so Azog caught up with me right about when you would've been starting up the mountain pass. He wanted me as bait, for all of you." You look down, feeling guilty. Had anything happened differently, you could've been the death of the company.

"But you stood up to him!" It's Kili who speaks, his tone filled with exuberance. "I don't think anyone's ever done anything like that before."

The company stares at you silently and you shift your weight from foot to foot awkwardly. "I just - I didn't want him to kill you, so I was bluffing, to try and gain some time."

"And you did an excellent job of it," Balin says with a warm smile that you can't help but mirror.

It's Dwalin who ends the moment. "How're we goin' to ge' off o' this blasted bit o' rock?"

"This way, Master Dwarf," Gandalf says, using his staff to gesture towards the edge of the rock.

"Stairs!" Bofur, the first to make it to the edge, exclaims in surprise. "Huge ones!"

"Yes." Gandalf nods slightly, beginning to make his way down first. "For this is the Carrock, and is is used as a watchtower of sorts for an inhabitant of these lands."

"He must be a giant!" Ori's eyes are as round as saucers, and you can tell that his fingers are itching to reach for a pen and his journal.

Either Gandalf doesn't hear, or simply chooses to ignore him to avoiding answering any questions that would follow. You assume that it's the latter, given the wizard's frequent sly tendencies.

"Are you coming?" You are the only one left atop the Carrock sooner than you expect, and you accept Thorin's outstetched hand to help you down to the first stair. The rock where you were standing before is nearly up to your chin, making you wonder who really did build these stairs.

Thorin jumps down to the next stairs, and this time you're paying enough attention to hear him groan quietly in pain. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine." Tight-lipped, he helps you down beside him. Looking closer at him, you can tell that he's lying. Of course he is. There's no possible way that he is uninjured after the way Azog's warg was tossing him about like a rag doll. But you don't push it. At least, not for now.

* * *

It takes several hours to reach the bottom of the Carrock. You've been hearing bits and pieces of a story about an escapade through Goblin Town, deep inside the Misty Mountains, and have begun to notice pronounced limps and obvious bruises and grimaces of pain. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise when Azog captured you.

The majority of the company collapses in exhaustion once there is grass beneath them again. Thorin seems about to berate them and get them on their feet again, then realizes how beaten they all are. "We make camp here, and move on tomorrow."

"Oh, Mahal bless you," someone calls out, presumably Bofur, sending out a ripple of laughter.

Within minutes, the decision to bathe in the nearby river has been made. You head upstream around a bend for privacy, listening to the others' shouts and splashes with amusement. Bathing quickly, not wanting anyone - or anything - to catch you while so vulnerable, you sigh in relief as you wash away the stench of orc and warg. Refreshed, you work at wringing water out of your long curls while cautiously returning to camp, not wanting to catch anyone indisposed.

Thankfully everyone at least has trousers on, so while you get some views you don't need, there's nothing scarring.

Oin comes up to you, looking hassled. "I need yer help, lass. You're the next best with herbs, an' the lads need tendin' to."

You nod, taking the pouch of herbs that he hands to you, beginning to move from dwarf to dwarf with it, treating their various injuries as best you can.

Finishing binding Dori's twisted ankle, you straighten up and look around. Someone is missing, so you go in search of Oin. "Where's Thorin?"

The old dwarf looks up from stitching a nasty cut in Bombur's arm, his expression befuddled. "A bear's snorin'?"

You almost laugh, but repeat yourself, louder, and he nods down the river. "Still washin' up. Don't want us seein' how he's hurt, if you ask me." His gaze softens in a grandfatherly fashion. "He's so proud. Still, he needs lookin' at. Would you mind?"

You almost decline, then take the plunge. No more sitting back and watching life pass you by. So you nod, and, medicine pouch in hand, make your way towards where Oin told you Thorin is. Once you catch a glimpse of the river ahead, you call out, "Thorin?" The last thing that you want to do is catch him unaware, since the last time that happened you nearly got your throat slit.

You peer through the bushes cautiously, finding him with his back to you. He's barefoot and shirtless, but has his trousers on, to your great relief. But that relief fades when you take a good look at the broad expanse of his bare back.

Despite the armor he was wearing, there's a wide semicircle of puncture wounds where the warg grabbed him in its jaws, and you know there must be a matching set on his chest. There's also the beginnings of a massive bruise blooming along the right side of his spine from where he was tossed onto the rock.

He turns when you call his name again while stepping out of the trees. He seems about to reach for his tunic, but you've already seen the damage. "Don't. I'm here to fix you up."

"I'm fine," he says stubbornly, and you huff, placing your hands on your hips.

"Are you going to make me go back to camp and get rope to tie you up to do this? Because I will."

Your new determination seems to take him by surprise. His face deepens into a scowl, but he sits on a small boulder by the river side without any more protests.

You set the medicine pack beside him, kneeling to get a good look at the puncture wounds that arc from his left pectoral to the bottom on his ribcae on the right, and back across nearly down to his left hip. They're red and inflamed and you can't help but cringe at the very sight of them. "Were you really going to let these go untreated?"

He shrugs, sucking in a quick breath when your cool hands gently press at his ribcage. "I've had worse."

"You were in a warg's mouth, Thorin. Who knows what poisons its teeth could have on them." Crushing several aloe vera leaves, you begin to dab the juice they release around the wounds. His skin shivers under your touch, and you bite your lip, praying you won't start blushing. The fact that you're so close to Thorin - while he's half naked, no less - is threatening to destroy your common sense.

Daubing the resin from poplar buds around the wounds to sooth the pain, you say, "Oin is brewing white willow bark tea, enough for everyone. It'll help numb the aches and pains."

Thorin doesn't reply, and you look up to see him staring into the distance, gaze unfocused. You pat him lightly on the thigh to bring him back to the present. "Did you hear what I -"

"Yes," he growls impatiently. "Are you about done?"

Taken aback, you nod. "Nearly. I just need to take care of your back, and I think these -" you hover your fingers over where the warg's fangs had pierced deeper than the rest "- will need stitching."

"Well, then get on with it."

Affronted by his rudeness, you're not as gentle as you could be when you start to sew the worst punctures closed. He doesn't complain, though, and when you stand again, you're face to face, his steely gaze seeming to pass right through you.

You're done with this. Done with his aloofness and haughty demeanor. "Do you hate me?"

"What?" He looks genuinely surprised, before his mask drops back into place. "No, of course not."

"Well, you certainly act like it." Irritably, you begin to move around behind him, but he grabs your arm, stopping you.

"Do you see me showing favor to the others in the company?"

You shake your head and retort, "No, but you're not totally demeaning towards them either!"

He sighs heavily. "As King Under the Mountain, and leader of this quest, I can show no partiality towards anyone. It would make them a target for my enemies."

You feel a glimmer of hope at that. "So if you don't hate me, yet still treat me like goblin refuse, then you . . ." He lifts his eyebrows slightly, waiting for you to connect the dots. When you do, you lift a hand to cover your mouth. "How long?"

Something that might be a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Since that night you drank yourself silly and wouldn't stop singing that ridiculous drinking song until you got a dance from me." You flush in embarrassment at the memory as he adds, "That was the first time I'd danced since Erebor, and it . . . it woke me up."

"I never took you for a romantic," you comment wryly, biting back an idiotic grin.

"Because I'm not," he says with a touch of his usual gruffness, releasing your arm to let you finish treating his back.

Mind whirring, you ask, "So . . . are things going to change?"

"Do you want them to?" Thorin asks, and you nod before remembering that he can't see you."

"Yes. No more treating me like you would a dog. And . . . I'm not sure if your traditional courting will work out here in the Wild."

"Courting will have to wait until we reclaim Erebor." He turns his head to look back at you. "Until then, you remain only a member of this company."

You pause in your application of poplar resin to look up at him with lifted eyebrows, rising to your feet to reach the wounds on his shoulder blade. "In that case, I might not still be interested when we reach Erebor."

His eyes narrow slightly as he recognizes a challenge. "I can keep you interested." Before you can reply, he's cupped a hand around the back of your neck, pulling you into a sudden kiss.

Despite your surprise, you don't resist, one hand on his far shoulder and the other on his arm. You've been dreaming of this for weeks, and now that it's happening, you're dizzy with joy.

When you pull apart, Thorin has a slight self-confident smirk on his face, and you can't find the words to wipe it away, so relent, breathlessly saying, "I think that'll do it."

For once, there's emotion in his deep blue eyes and a smile on his lips. And when you say, "Keep doing that every day and I can't wait for Erebor," he laughs, deep and rich. and you laugh too, because you're never heard him laugh before and you just can't help it.

You kiss his cheek lightly, his beard rough and a bit prickly, pulling back before he can capture your lips with his again. "We should finish up and get back to camp before the others come looking for us."

He relents, letting you stitch up the two deepest gouges in his back before rising to his feet, tugging his tunic back on.

"Now try to not put too much stress on those for the next few days." Knowing Thorin and his tendencies, though, he'll be wrestling wargs again tomorrow. "I don't want you tearing your stitches, and though your ribs are only bruised, anything too rough could break them."

"Be gentle with me, then," he deadpans as he laces his boots, and since you really don't want to have to patch him up again, you settle for the childish gesture of sticking your tongue out at him. Thorin chuckles, and you scoop up the medicine pouch and start to stalk back to camp.

He catches up to you before you break through the trees, pulling you back to steal another kiss and whisper a promise in your ear. You let him stride ahead, his haughty king's demeanor returning, smiling wistfully as you feel a new lurch of excitement at the thought of Erebor.

* * *

So, turns out that one wasn't quite so fluffy. And Thorin is a bit OOC, but I think that anything cute and romantic with him is. I'll do another with him not on the quest for Erebor later, and see if it flows better. But the bit at the beginning with Azog has been floating around in my head since I first saw 'An Unexpected Journey', and I decided to see if I could add it into this collection of fics.

Next one shall be for Fili!


	4. Insecurities - Fili

Your footsteps echo hollowly as you wander the hallways and corridors of Erebor. Due to the fact that you were part of one of the first caravans to come to the mountain after receiving the news that Smaug was dead, there are very few dwarves in Erebor considering its size. Numbering less than a hundred, you have all come to bring the mountain kingdom back to life. After years of lying dormant as the sleeping chambers of a malicious fire drake, many things have fallen into disrepair. Most of the larger halls where Smaug dwelled are crushed and smashed from the dragon's fits of rage. Other places where he could not reach are in a better state, such as the living quarters, but are still covered in thick coats of dust and cobwebs. The musty, reptilian smell of dragon is still heavily layered over everything, though, almost seeming to have seeped into the rock during Smaug's decades of inhabitance. It's strong enough that every so often you look over your shoulder, half expecting to see the massive beast. Fili and Kili have told you tales about him that are so fantastic that you wonder if you can actually believe them.

At the thought of the brothers, you can't help the smile that creeps across your face. As the daughter of a high-class merchant, you've been friends with the princes since childhood. You grew up together, and love them both dearly, but it's Fili who holds a special place in your heart.

Being the elder of the two, Fili has grown up with the weight of being next in line for the throne on his shoulders. As a result, he is much more serious than his brother, almost withdrawn at times. Kili has always been good for a laugh, but when you need a shoulder to cry on or a listening ear, you've always gone to Fili.

It was the same now. Appealing as climbing through the mountains of golden trinkets that Smaug had used for a bed might sound any other day, today you just want to sit and talk. There's a pressing matter that's been growing every day, and even if it didn't involve Fili, as it does, you still would've gone in search of him. So you leave Kili with Gimli and several other young dwarves, going in search of Fili.

The mountain is bigger than you'd ever imagined, and you're having a difficult time finding him. On a hunch, you turn down the arched hall that will lead you to the library, shifting the torch you carry to your left hand to push open the enormous wooden doors.

They creak ominously, so you open them no wider than you have to, slipping through the gap into the cavernous room. The royal library is filled with row upon row of shelves, each laden with dusty old tomes. It's rather eerie, and you shiver slightly, subconsciously lightening your steps and making your breathing shallower.

Your gaze catches on a flicker of light several rows down, and you move towards it. Your hand drifts to the tiny dagger concealed in the folds of your dress, for even though it's highly unlikely to be some unsavory character, it never hurt to play it safe.

Your case of nerves eases when you step around the last shelf to find a small reading nook, with a table and chairs, as well as some ancient lanterns and torch holders. One is occupied, and its light illuminates Fili, who's sitting in one of the chairs with an elbow resting on one of the arms, and his head in his hand.

"Fili?" His name comes out as a whisper, not intentionally, but more because the dark stillness of the library seems to command it, despite the fact that you're the only two in the room.

He rises halfway to his feet, reaching for the sword beside him before he focuses on you. Breathing out a sigh, he smiles - rather tightly, you think - and settles back into his chair. "Oh, it's you."

"Yes, it's me," you say rather dryly, lifting an eyebrow as you move closer, slipping your torch into the holder next to his. "Why, were you expecting someone else?"

He shakes his head, the beads at the ends of his multiple braids clacking together dully. "No, I just wasn't expecting you. I thought you were with Kili."

"I was. Now I'm not." You pause and ask, "Do you want me to leave?"

"No! No, you're fine. Please, stay." As you begin to tug a chair closer to sit next to him, he stops you. "Don't do that. Here." He pats his lap, and you eye him dubiously, making him crack a slight smile. "The chairs are all dusty, and I don't want you dirtying your dress."

Well, you can't argue with that, so you abandon the chair to settle in his lap. "Ever the gentleman, aren't you?" You tease, turning sideways to rest your head comfortably against his shoulder.

His arms come around you in a loose sort of embrace as he chuckles. "For you, always."

"Such a charmer." You tug lightly at the end of one of his new braids gained from the part he played in reclaiming Erebor. "I can't believe that you got the mountain back." Realizing how that might sound, you hastily amend yourself. "Not that I didn't believe in you, it's just that after more than a hundred and fifty years, our generation was a part of it."

"It is incredible," Fili agrees, but his voice is missing its lighthearted tone.

"What's wrong?" After knowing him for years, you two can read each other like open books. And now, even after months of separation, you can tell that something has upset him. So when he starts to shake his head, you stop him immediately. "Don't tell me it's nothing."

He almost laughs. "You know me too well."

"I do," you claim without a trace of humility, poking him in the chest as you continue. "So I can tell that it's something related to what I said about out generation reclaiming Erebor."

Fili doesn't reply right away, and you wait a moment to let him collect his thoughts. finally, he begins to speak. "I've always felt the pressure of being next in line for the throne, but now that we actually have the throne, it suddenly feels _real_. 'King' won't just be a title like it was in Ered Luin, but an actual position of power. And after the battle -" His voice cracks and you rub his arm comfortingly. "We almost lost Thorin and I was almost king, and I don't feel ready."

"But he's fine now, Fili." Maybe fine is stretching it, but Fili needs the assurance. "And if anything did happen to him, I know that Balin would be an excellent advisor for you, just as he is for Thorin."

"I still don't think I'm ready."

"Maybe you're not. But you've got time to prepare, so don't worry yourself so much."

You can feel his lips curve into a smile as he presses them to the top of your head in a light kiss. "I'll try not to."

"Good." You bask in his embrace for a while, before the reason that you came to find him rears its head again. "Remember how you asked me to wait for you, before you left?"

His chin bumps your head slightly as he nods. "Yes. Why?"

Nestling a bit closer to him, you say, "Well, not too long after you left, Runor, son of Ragrim, the merchant, started showing interest in me. My father thought it was a good match, especially since you and Kili . . ." You trail off briefly. Your family had had high hopes of you marrying one of the princes, but when they left with their uncle on the impossible journey for Erebor, your parents had quickly moved their sights to other well-to-do families. "No one thought you were coming back, and my parents wanted me to do well with a husband. Runor was one of the next best choices after you left."

Fili's posture has stiffened noticeably as you teel your tale, and as soon as you go quiet he asks, "So did your father give him permission to court you?"

"He almost did. But I told him about you, and asked for a year, like you said. And even though he didn't expect you to return, he said I could wait. I think that he was hoping that I would lose interest over time, since it didn't seem at all likely that you'd come back." You press a bit closer to him when you say that. You had prayed every night to Mahal, as well as Nienna and Este, begging them to watch over the brothers and keep them safe. And except for Kili's new limp and the horrors of battle that you can see echoed in their eyes when caught off guard, it seems that your prayers were answered.

"I'm glad to hear that at least one dwarf had faith in me." Fili momentarily tightens his arms around you in a grateful half-hug. "Since you're here, I assume your father has sent this Runor fellow off with his tail between his legs."

"Not yet," you say with a slight sigh. "He knows how time can change things, so he's given me till the next full moon to see if you still feel the same." From your current position, you can guess what his reply will be, but you still want to hear him say it.

"Of course I do." He places a finger under your chin to tilt your face up towards his, then pauses. "Do you?"

You look at him flatly. "No, I'm just here cuddling with you to tell you that I don't love you anymore and I'd much rather marry a dwarf who's more interested in my family's connections than me as a person."

Fili chuckles. "Just making sure. Didn't want to get rejected when I do this." And he kisses you, and it's just as magical as the first time. But this time you know it's coming, and it lasts longer. Much, much longer, and you think of the stories you've heard the few other girls your age telling. They talked about kisses that made the world stop, that they claimed made time pause. You used to think them ridiculous, but this kiss is all that and more. Slow and sweet, it makes your toes curl and your heart skip a beat. Your fingers twine in Fili's golden hair, and you whine softly in protest when he pulls away, making him laugh.

"Greedy, aren't you?" He teases, forehead resting against yours. Placing a finger over your lips when you try to kiss him again, his sapphire blue eyes glint with amusement as he says, "Wait till you tell your father. Then I won't feel like I'm making a dishonest woman out of you."

You pout slightly, getting off his lap and reaching for your torch. "Fine. Are you going to come with me, or keep brooding in here?"

Fili rises to his feet with a slight groan. "When you put it that way, I think I'll accompany you." He offers his arm to you, and you grin gleefully as you tuck your hand into the crook of his elbow. "Now, let's go find your father."

And so, walking arm in arm with your prince, you can't help the slight skip of delight in your step, because any girl's storybook ending has just come true for you.

* * *

D'aww, and there you have it, folks! The ending is horribly cheesy, but I'm learning to accept the fact that all my fluff fics are going to be that way ;P

So, I had two revelations while writing this. One, half a pint of gelato is an excellent thing to snack on while writing fluff, especially when you wish it was you in the story. And two, I know what the next Fili fic will be. There's a few subtle hints for the observant readers, so see if you can find them and make a guess as to what the fic will be about c:


	5. I'll wait - Fili

So, here we have the next Fili story. It's more or less a prequel to the last one, though it might not mesh completely. That's partly because when I write, the stories will take a life of their own and almost write themselves, and I just have to scramble to get them out in an orderly fashion. So maybe they don't connect perfectly, and maybe this isn't as fluffy as I originally hoped, but I love the ending, so I'm putting it up for y'all.

* * *

The fire crackles merrily behind its grate, sending shadows dancing across the walls. You sit within the circle of light that it casts, curled up in a large chair with your legs tucked beneath you. A book rests in your lap, and your eyes methodically move over the page, but if someone was to ask you what you are reading, you couldn't tell them. Your mind is elsewhere.

A knock at the door startles you out of your reverie, and you nearly drop the book into the floor as you move to stand. Catching it in time, you carefully set it on a nearby table and reach for your dressing gown. The grand farewell feast for Thorin Oakenshield and his small company before they leave for Erebor had quickly given you a headache, so you had returned to your room. Though, on second thought, perhaps it was not the noise that had caused the ache behind your eyes, but the building urge to cry.

Fastening the dressing gown about your waist, you cautiously open the door a crack. To your surprise, it's Prince Fili, looking quite handsome in his royal garb. You self-consciously hold the front of your gown tightly closed, stammering, "F-Fili, I di- I didn't expect you."

His gaze flicks downwards, and a faint redness rises to his cheeks when he realizes your state of undress. "I'm sorry. I just noticed that you left the party rather abruptly, and wanted to make sure that you're not feeling poorly. I can leave." He looks at you, expression hopeful, as well as a tad embarrassed.

You hesitate for a moment. Letting him in with you in your nightclothes is highly improper, but he's leaving tomorrow. This could be your last chance to talk to him. So you open the door wider and step back to let him in.

"I hope no one saw that," you comment wryly as you shut the door behind him. "Or I know what the gossip will be around here for the next six months."

Fili laughs at that. "At least." You smile, then an awkward silence falls. You remember once upon a time, as a young dwarfling, having nightmares about orcs and goblins, and going sneaking through the rough-hewn halls of Ered Luin, jumping at every shadow and sound. You'd crept all the way to Fili's sleeping chambers, and fearfully told him about your monsters. And you'd spent the night with him, blissfully free of nightmares after he claimed that he would keep you safe.

There'd been an uproar the next morning, of course, but since you were both children, it had passed quickly. If you were found now, though, the whispers would continue for much, much longer.

"Um, so . . ." You swallow, trying to think of a way to break the silence. "You're leaving tomorrow."

Fili nods, looking relieved to have something to talk about. "Yes. Smaug hasn't been seen for decades, so it's the perfect time to march on Erebor and reclaim what is ours."

You smile, albeit a bit sadly. Yes, the thought of Erebor being a dwarven kingdom again, instead of the sleeping chambers - or tomb, hopefully, for a dragon, is thrilling. But if the cost is potentially the lives of your friends, for you're close to Prince Kili as well, you're not sure if it's worth it.

"The company numbers only thirteen, though, correct?" You voice one of your worries as you move back to the warmth of the fire. The number is so small, and unlucky as well.

"For now, yes. But Gandalf the Grey, the wandering wizard, will be joining us along the way. And he will be finding a burglar to help us get into Erebor." Fili follows you, standing beside the chair, you yourself standing a bit closer to the fire. "Can you imagine? A wizard in our company! Imagine how many dragons he must've dealt with in his time."

You have to smile slightly at his enthusiasm, but can't muster up any of your own. Your lack of response draws Fili closer. "What's wrong?"

You fold your arms over your chest, shoulders slightly hunched. "I just . . . I don't know about this, Fili." Your voice is thick from choking back the tears that threaten to spill down your face, and moments later you feel Fili's arms around you. That shatters the dam, and you turn to bury your face in his chest as heavy sobs wrack your body. "I don't want to lose you." You're not sure if he can understand you with the combination of the tears and your words being muffled by his shirt. But now that you've started, you can't stop. "I'm so afraid that you, or Kili, or both of you, will die on this quest. And that can't happen. I love you too much for it to happen."

As you vent your worries, Fili holds you close, stroking your hair and murmuring your name until your sobs diminish to shivering breaths and hiccups. Then he speaks, talking slowly as he carefully picks his words. "I admit, this quest will be dangerous. But, like I said, we have Gandalf. And he said that he will find an expert burglar to join us. Plus, Thorin and Balin have both seen the dragon. They know what we're up against, and will plan accordingly. If the dragon is even alive anymore. In all likelihood, Smaug is long dead, and Erebor is just waiting for us to return home."

You doubt that that's true. Nothing is ever that easy. Then, considering the distance and terrain that the company will have to cover to reach the Lonely Mountain, perhaps just getting there will be the biggest trial.

As if reading your mind - he might actually have, you know each other well enough - Fili says, "And as far as the journey there, you have no reason to worry. You remember Dwalin, right?" You nod, sniffling. It was Dwalin's tales of adventure that had given you those long-ago nightmares. "He's part of the company. I think we could turn him alone on Smaug and he'd come out the winner." You can't help but laugh at the outlandish but still imaginable thought, and Fili continues. "Gloin is coming along as well, and you know that he's always good to have in a fight. So of course Oin will be with us as well, and he can patch up any nicks or bruises we get along the way. The others I don't know as well, but they look sturdy. And they have the promise of a share of Erebor's gold, so I don't see why they wouldn't stay through to the end."

You feel heartened by his words. Yes, it's still an insane idea, but now there's a ray of hope that's starting to chase the shadows away. Fili is so confident that it's infectious, and you lift your head from his chest. "So you really think that there's a chance?" He nods with a surety that you can't deny, and the worries start to melt away. Not completely, but enough to let a smile return to your face. Then you notice the spot that your tears have left on his shirt, and you say, "I think I've ruined your good tunic."

Both of you start laughing, and when you stop there's tears in your eyes again, but these you can quickly wipe away.

"Do you want me to stay?" Fili asks, clearly wondering if you'll have another breakdown.

You shake your head. "No, I'm fine now." You don't want him to go, but he needs to rest for the early departure tomorrow.

After exchanging goodnights - goodbye sounds too final - you stand in your doorway, watching him go down the hall. Your arms are folded over your chest again, but this time to keep the warmth from his embrace just a little longer. You see him pause before rounding the corner that will take him out of sight, and you frown slightly, wondering what he's doing as he strides back towards you. He takes you by surprise when he grips your upper arms, saying, "Wait for me."

"What?" Your voice squeaks slightly. You've rarely seen Fili this intense, and can't look away as his eyes search yours.

"Wait for me," he repeats. "Your parents will be finding suitors for you soon, but I want you to wait for me. Give me a year to reach Erebor and send a message back to you."

Your mind is whirling. Fili is all but asking if you will let him court you. The only thing stopping him from asking plainly is the fact that he is leaving tomorrow. If anything happens to him on the quest, it will leave you the closest thing to a widow if you accept.

But you love him. You haven't consciously realized it until now, but you do. At some point you crossed the line between friends and something more, and now is the time to recognize it.

"Yes." Fili is starting to turn away, you're taken so long to answer, but his gaze snaps back to yours wehn you speak. "Yes, Fili, I'll wait for you."

His face splits into a delighted smile, and he pulls you into a crushing embrace. Then, when he releases you, he does something that you hardly expected; he kisses you.

In the past, it's all been pecks on the cheek or forehead, but this time he kisses you on the lips. It's over before you can react, and Fili is already down the hall and around the corner by the time you regain your senses. So you stand there along in the doorway, hand pressed to your pleasantly tingling lips as you stare into space. Then a broad grin covers your face, and before you go back into your room, you whisper after him:

"I will most certainly wait for you."


	6. Author's note

Hello, dear readers,

I know, I'm a horrible person. But, I have a legit reason for not having uploaded any more chapters to this, and it is high school. My workload has been crazy, and though I typically write at night, I've been too exhausted to lately. However, I will try my best to get something up soon for y'all. Just stick with me.

And feel free to suggest any characters or situations you'd like to see written out. I have plenty of ideas, but I'm only one woman with a certain taste. I'd love to hear suggestions from the readers as to what y'all would like to read.

So, until my life slows down from the current breakneck pace, hang tight, y'all. :3

AdorkableChika


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